Montana Dreaming

by Judy Duarte

  “Sounds innocent enough. Unless he tries to get you to sign something. Or tries to get you naked.”

  Warmth infused Lisa’s cheeks even though she was alone. “I wouldn’t sign anything. And he’s not going to try to…do the other thing you said. What made you think that?”

  “You’re a rich woman now. Some men find that very attractive, if you know what I mean.”

  “I do know and I’ll be wary.”

  “If I was you, I’d be expecting men to fall all over me.”

  “Thanks for the warning, but it’s not like I don’t suspect ulterior motives. Let’s see, last ten years, no men seeking me out. Now, today, suddenly man pays attention. I can figure it out.”

  “Okay. Good.”

  Her next call was to Riley to let him know she was leaving her house.

  Lisa would rather have believed Riley was just a nice guy offering to help, but their history made her assume otherwise. She drove to the Lazy D, followed by the news vans. They parked out on the road when she pulled into his drive.

  Riley led her out the back door, where his assistant, Marge, waited in the driver’s seat of a Lexus. “Get down in the front,” he told her, and she ducked down on the passenger side while he got into the rear and did the same.

  Feeling as if she’d been zapped into an old Dukes of Hazzard rerun, she prayed Marge wouldn’t be driving through fields or jumping any waterways. “Where are we going?”

  “I’m taking you to the garage at the big house,” Marge replied. “I come and go from this place all day long, so no one will think anything of it.”

  A few minutes of blissfully sedate driving later, they pulled into a darkened building, and an automatic door lowered.

  “Thanks, Marge,” Riley told the woman.

  She smiled and handed Lisa a straw hat. “Anytime.”

  Riley led Lisa to a red sports car, held the door for her and, after pressing a garage-door opener, guided the car out into the daylight. “Put that hat on.”

  “If we’re avoiding the newspeople, I shouldn’t need it.” She tossed the hat on the backseat.

  No cars followed as Riley took a back road. “This way is longer, but we’ll avoid the cameras.”

  “Works for me.”

  She couldn’t help noticing the shape of his long fingers on the gearshift or the way his jeans stretched taut over his thighs as he drove. He was as appealing as he’d been in high school, sexier even, and the fact wasn’t lost on her. That naked word that Bernadine had used still disturbed her, especially when she thought it in his presence.

  Riley knew a back route that brought them out farther north on Thunder Canyon Road. He headed south.

  “One of the first things on my agenda was to have a chain-link fence built around the entire area, including the sinkhole and the mine entrance, to protect all the land where the mine sits.”

  “Think it’s necessary?”

  “Would you lock up a million dollars or leave it out?”

  “Good point.”

  He took an unmarked road. Four times, brown-uniformed men stationed along the way stopped the car, and each time Riley showed his identification. It wasn’t long before they reached the entrance to the mine.

  Two more uniformed men walked out of a canopy-style tent and approached the car. Lisa was surprised to see them carrying pistols in shoulder holsters. Their belts held walkie-talkies and nightsticks. “Looks like they’re ready for an invasion.”

  Riley walked around to open her door, but she’d already stepped out.

  “Mr. Douglas,” one of the uniformed men greeted him. “I didn’t recognize the car.”

  “We’re incognito.”

  The guard looked Lisa over then, and recognition dawned. “Gotcha.”

  “Miss Martin’s come to look over her property.”

  “It’s been quiet all week,” the man told them.

  “That’s what we like to hear.”

  The entrance to the mine had obviously once been completely closed up, but boards had been removed and replaced with steel beams to take the load from aging timbers.

  “Is it safe?” she asked.

  “Up front, it is. It’s only been shored up for six hundred feet so far. We won’t go farther than that.”

  He entered a trailer situated nearby and returned with two yellow hard hats with lights affixed and carried a high-powered flashlight. He handed Lisa one of the hats, which she placed on her head, then he led the way into the mine.

  The beams from their hats bounced off the walls, creating bouncing shadows as they entered and looked around. The interior was larger and cooler than she’d expected, and lights had been strung from posts. It was obvious that a lot of work had already been done to add support and safety features. As the tunnel led them increasingly deeper and lower, their steps echoed eerily in the stillness. Lisa imagined the primitive conditions that had once existed and pictured the original owner, whoever he’d been, carving out these walls.

  They walked as far as the improvements extended, and Lisa stared into the yawning darkness beyond. Nothing glittered or gleamed or screamed gold to her, and the musty-earth smell was stronger. Growing up, she’d read too many Nancy Drew novels to feel comfortable in the bowels of a mine. “So, somewhere in there is a lot of gold, eh?”

  Her voice carried through the darkness in a ghostly echo. It took all her courage not to move closer to Riley.

  “That’s right,” he replied, speaking softly. The low timber of his voice sent a shiver up her spine. “A vein was discovered when a rescue worker was found with the nugget after Erik Stevenson fell into the mine a few months ago. Our experts’ analysis showed the vein stretches back at least another three hundred feet beyond what’s been exposed and branches considerably downward.”

  “And this mine was thought to be played out?”

  “Apparently. And forgotten over the years.”

  “I wonder how my great-great-grandmother came to own it.”

  “Apparently her father, Bart, was the second owner. He may have purchased it or won it in a card game. No way to know for sure. Upon his death, she inherited it.”

  “Wasn’t there a story about Lily losing the mine to your ancestor?”

  “One story says she owed money to Amos Douglas and he took the land as payment.”

  “And the other?”

  “The other says he foreclosed on her property and took it.”

  “Aren’t there records?”

  “That was over a hundred years ago. People didn’t exactly have to keep information for income taxes.”

  “So how did the fact that I owned the deed come to light?”

  “Emily Stanton and Brad Vaughn did all the digging on that. Apparently, as one of their last efforts, they had a talk with Tildy Matheson.”

  Lisa knew who the old woman was.

  “Her grandmother was good friends with Amos’s wife, Catherine. Tildy offered to show them papers and pictures that had been in her attic, and among her grandmother’s things was the deed to the mine—signed back over to Lily Divine Harding.”

  Lisa glanced up at Riley. It was difficult to see his expression with the light on his hat glaring into the darkness. “And that’s a legal document?”

  “More legal than anything we Douglases can come up with.”

  She’d displaced him from ownership of a gold mine. “And how do you feel about that?”

  He seemed surprised at her question and didn’t immediately form a reply.

  “Sorry. Dumb question.”

  “No. I just didn’t want to sound insincere when I answered.”

  She noticed he didn’t say he didn’t want to be insincere, just that he didn’t want to sound that way.

  “Let’s head back,” he said and directed the flashlight beam back the way they’d come. He moved around her, brushing her shoulder with his chest. The heat from his body was a pleasant surprise in the cool interior of the mine. “I tried every way I knew to prove ownership to the land. I
couldn’t do it. You’re the owner. Those are the facts.”

  And on the surface he’d been helpful and informative rather than resentful. The darkness at her back made her uncomfortable, and she didn’t let him get too far ahead of her. “What’s in this for you?”

  He glanced at her, and she had to squint against the beam of light. He reached up and switched it off, then did the same to hers. “I’ve offered to manage your business. You’re coming into a lot of money. If I work for you, I’ll make money, too. Plain and simple.”

  Sounded too plain and simple. Maybe Bernadine was right.

  Lisa blinked as they reached the mouth of the mine and the bright sunlight. While Riley returned their hats to the trailer, she found her sunglasses in her purse and slipped them on.

  Riley drove her back to his place, where she thanked him, then headed home in her Blazer. There was more that she needed to know. She knew very little about her ancestor. Legend had it that Lily had run a bordello in Thunder Canyon, and apparently the museum held historical artifacts from that time. In all these years Lisa had never visited. She’dnever wanted anyone to see her there.

  There was one less news vehicle across from her house when she reached it, and she took that as a good sign that things were settling down.

  That night the clips of her at the Super Saver Mart were brief, and the anchorwoman moved right along to a story about a grant for the library and a literacy program.

  Lisa peered out her front window as her pork chop cooked on her indoor ceramic grill. She was boring, anyone could see that. Eventually they had to lose interest and move on. She wasn’t going to suddenly do something exciting.

  She had more meetings scheduled the next day, and Bernadine would be picking her up. Maybe afterward she could slip away unnoticed to go to the museum.

  That evening she planned her escape and packed a canvas tote bag with a change of clothing and a scarf.

  The following afternoon Lisa wished Bernadine goodbye and slipped into the restroom of the courthouse, where they’d been filing papers. She changed clothes, tied the scarf around her hair bandanna-style and put on her sunglasses like a spy in a James Bond movie.

  She exited the building through a back door and walked several blocks to the museum, which used to be an old schoolhouse. The building was centered on an acre of land that had once been the school yard. Lisa glanced in both directions, but no one had followed her.

  She entered the reception area.

  A woman greeted her. “Do you have a membership?”

  “No.”

  “Admission is six dollars.”

  Lisa paid the amount and accepted a brochure.

  “As you enter, the room to your left holds displays of mining equipment and information about the history of Thunder Canyon and local industry. There’s a Native American display and a pioneer-life section.

  “As you see, in the center area are groupings of furniture arranged to look as they may have at one time.”

  Lisa glanced at the roped-off sections, her gaze wandering toward what she really wanted to locate.

  “The room to the right holds personal items used by our town founders and the more infamous inhabitants of Thunder Canyon. Enjoy your visit. If I can be of any assistance, just ask. Please sign the guest book and visit our gift shop before you leave. All proceeds go to the historical society to support the museum.”

  “I will, thanks.” Lisa wanted to head directly for the room on the right, but instead she nonchalantly moseyed among the pieces of furniture, entered the large room on the left and studied the displays.

  The picks and scales and claim deeds were of timely interest since she’d just seen the inside of her first mine. Black-and-white photographs, enlarged and displayed on foam board, brought the miners to life with real faces. Someone, once upon a long-ago time—probably her ancestor, Bart Divine—had toiled in the depths of the Queen of Hearts with sweat and hope and then had apparently given up. She was curious about those times and increasingly curious about Lily.

  The museum lady was nowhere to be seen and no other visitors were in the building when Lisa peeked across the center room. She made her way past settings of chairs and sideboards and a cast-iron stove holding a kettle to enter the opposite room.

  A quick survey showed her the window she’d come to see, and she hurried closer. A mannequin dressed in a dance-hall costume stood to one side in the exhibit. The red satin dress was trimmed with black lace and had been scandalously revealing for its time. Long ropes of pearls hung around the mannequin’s bare neck, and a black ostrich feather had been affixed to the dark wig.

  Lisa drew her gaze to the objects displayed in the case and their descriptions: a tortoiseshell hair comb studded with rhinestones, several perfume bottles, a fan edged with Chantilly lace and trimmed with black purling braid and a fancy pair of black silk garters, each with a gilt buckle and a rosette of satin taffeta ribbon.

  Her attention was drawn to a pair of photographs. One was of the inside of the infamous Shady Lady saloon. A bartender in a white shirt with black armbands stood behind the polished mahogany bar. On the wall behind the bar were rows of liquor bottles and glasses, and center stage was a painting.

  The caption under the photo claimed that the portrait was of none other than Lily Divine herself. The likeness was too small for Lisa to make out any features, but the most obvious thing to note was that the woman who had posed for the portrait was bare except for something sheer draped across her hip and hiding only minimal secrets.

  Lisa read that the painting was property of the Hitching Post and still hung over the bar. She’d heard talk of the portrait before, of course. In high school, coarse comments had been made, along with inquiries as to whether she was as stacked as Lily Divine, but she’d been too embarrassed to go see for herself.

  The last photograph was a picture of her great-great-grandmother. Dark-haired and fair of features, she stood on the white-painted stairs of a house, dressed in a very average-looking skirt and a blouse with a high lace collar. She shaded her eyes with one hand and wore a gentle smile.

  Her expression struck Lisa as one of a woman sure of herself. Confident. Poised. A woman who knew her place in her world.

  Somehow those qualities had been lost in the gene pool, she thought. Lisa stared at the picture for a long time. In all these years she’d never come here because she’d been embarrassed. Ashamed of Lily Divine’s reputation and legacy. Her aunt and grandmother had rarely spoken of the woman, and when they had it had been in lowered tones of disapproval.

  Lisa tried to make sense of Lily being friends with Amos Douglas’s wife. If Lily had run a house of ill repute and Amos Douglas had been an upstanding forefather, how had the two women been acquainted?

  There was more here than she was able to see on the surface. A big piece of the puzzle was missing, and something drove her to discover what that was. Maybe her own visit to Tildy Matheson was in order.

  Chapter Four

  “Riley, I didn’t know you were coming by again today.” Caleb Douglas spotted his son at the computer in the adjoining office. They had remodeled this downtown building where all the business for the ski-resort project was handled, but Riley worked from his home office most of the time.

  “I needed to crunch a few numbers.”

  Ground-breaking for Thunder Canyon Resort had been set back by the gold-fever commotion and subsequent land disputes but was back on schedule.

  The older man entered the room and closed the door behind him. Riley’s mother had obviously chosen the shirt and tie Caleb wore, which coordinated with his tailor-made western-cut sport jacket. Caleb stepped in front of Riley’s desk. “How are things going with the Martin girl?”

  “She’s about to hire me.”

  “You’re going to have to push this a little faster. One more 9/11 scare will send gold sky-high. We need to be in place when that happens.”

  “It’s coming together.”

  “The mining is moving
forward. There’s gonna be gold coming out of that hole by the ton.”

  “I said I’m working on it.”

  Caleb held up both hands. “Okay. It had better be good.” He started to walk away, then stopped as if he’d had a thought.

  “I’m meeting Justin for lunch. Care to join us?”

  Justin Caldwell was the brother Riley hadn’t known about until a month ago. Justin, however, had learned about Caleb two years previously and had schemed against the Douglases to get control of the ski resort through the investors. His scheme had worked, too. The manipulation and resulting takeover had nearly broken Caleb. But in the end Justin had experienced a change of heart and given control of the project back to Caleb. Now the two of them seemed to be downright bonding.

  Riley grabbed a pen and jotted down a few numbers. “I have other plans.”

  “Well, that’s a shame. I’d like to get my two boys together for a change.”

  “Yeah, that would be real nice.”

  “Riley, he married our girl, Katie. You’re going to have to accept him.”

  Riley’s parents had taken in Katie Fenton when she’d been fourteen and her mother had died. Katie’s mother and Adele had been college friends. Katie was the daughter Caleb never had, his darling. Riley had been in college at the time, but he’d grown to love her, too. More often than not, however—even though he was the only offspring from his parents’ union—he felt like the outsider in the family.

  “Your mother’s talking about a get-together soon,” Caleb said. “A family thing. Bring someone.”

  Riley watched his father leave the room. Finding out about Justin had been a shock. His father’d had an affair when Riley had been just a baby. Justin had been the result of that, and Riley and his mother were still coming to terms with the betrayal.

  Adele was a strong, proud woman, and her position in the community stiffened her backbone when it came to handling tough conditions. Riley, too, was loyal to family and the Douglas name. He and Justin had formed a tentative relationship, but Riley still had issues.